Angel of Music
by BryonieAnne
Summary: A Sherlocky take on The Phantom of the Opera, starring John as the talented Christine. Mainly follows the Phantom storyline, just uses Sherlock characters and mannerisms. Not crack. Johnlock. Includes singing in italics. Rating may change as I continue to write. Review please :)
1. Think of Me

**Hey guys! Starting a new fic since I was watching Phantom of the Opera and I just really wanted to put our beloved Sherlock characters in that environment. Obviously I don't own anything in this story, I'm just messing around, and hopefully it doesn't suck too badly! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Greg Lestrade and Scott Dimmock looked happily on the beautiful sight before them. The Opera Populaire, in all its splendor, and it was theirs. They had finished the paperwork a week ago, and were finally going to take a tour of their opera house.

The previous owner met them at the door, Lestrade hadn't bothered to learn his name, as the man was quiet and was soon to flee the country. It seemed a waste of time to properly learn about him. They all smiled and shook hands before entering the large ornate doors.

"We're currently in the middle of our last rehearsal for the opera Hannibal, which will premiere tonight," the previous owner explained, gesturing lazily with his arms. Lestrade could hear the music and singing already. He longed to see the stage. "I thought now would be a good time to show you the workings of the opera house."

After a brief tour of the parts of the opera house open to the public, the previous owner led Lestrade and Dimmock towards the side entrance of the stage. As he opened the door, the volume of the music seemed to increase tenfold, and Lestrade gazed into the throng of people. There were performers everywhere; ballet dancers perfecting their routine, singers preparing their voices, crew putting the final touches on the scenery, the orchestra running through the set one last time. It was a spectacle to behold and Lestrade marveled in it.

They stood for a while and watched the ballet dancers and an older woman approached them. "Ah!" The previous owner exclaimed. "Madame Hudson! I hope we aren't interrupting your rehearsal. These are the new owners, Monsieurs Lestrade and Dimmock." Madame Hudson let her head drop into a slight bow. "Madame Hudson is the ballet instructor for the opera house."

Madame Hudson bowed again and turned to her dancers. "Our dancers are the best in all of France, don't you agree Monsieurs?"

Lestrade nodded as he watched the men and women dance, lithe and graceful. Dimmock cleared his throat. "Who's the lovely redhead?" He pointed towards a petite dancer, her face was soft but determined as she focused on the routine.

"My adopted daughter, Molly Hooper. She has great talent," Madame Hudson smiled.

"And the blonde man, just there?" Lestrade asked as he watched a short but strong man lift Molly Hooper and then put her down gracefully. His face was devoid of concentration, it looked as though this routine came naturally to him, and he barely even had to think about the steps.

"John Watson, a wonderful dancer."

Dimmock started. "Watson? No relation to Gerard Watson, the famous violinist?"

Madame Hudson smiled a little wider, "his only child. Orphaned at seven, he came to live in the opera house with myself and Molly. He is a remarkable talent. Now, please Monsieurs, I must ask you to step aside,"

The previous owner led them across the stage to where a woman was humorously overdressed, and barking orders at people. "This is Sally Donovan, our star!"

The lady held out her hand, expecting Lestrade and Dimmock to kiss it, which they did a bit reluctantly. A man walked towards them and huffed loudly. "Yes, this is Anderson, our male lead."

They had turned to move away from the diva, when she threw a nasty fit. Lestrade was able to tune her out, only hearing the odd word of her rant, as he glanced back at the dancers. When Lestrade turned back to Donovan, she was storming off the stage and Dimmock was running after her. Lestrade figured he should probably help.

After a lengthy amount of groveling, Lestrade and Dimmock had convinced Donovan to stay, and had asked her to sing a piece from the third act for them.

"If my managers command," the diva grinned and stepped to center stage. The dancers and crew all stopped to watch as she began to song. Lestrade couldn't help but notice that the ladies cleaning the seats wore earplugs. As Donovan began to sing, Lestrade wished he had some earplugs of his own.

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly_

_When we've said goodbye_

_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

_When you find_

_That once again you long _

_To take your heart back and be free..._

There was a loud crashing sound and in an instant one of the props fell from the ceiling and fell right on top of the singing diva. Suddenly the whole opera house was in an uproar, yelling and screaming.

"Joseph! What on earth is the meaning of this?" The previous owner yelled up to a man who was peering over the edge of a rafter above the stage. The man shook his head furiously.

"It wasn't me, Monsieur. I wasn't at my post and there's no one else here. It must have been a ghost!" He exclaimed and let out a small chuckle as the girls in the opera house let out a scream.

Donovan had gotten her feet back under her and was now screeching loudly at the previous owner. He tried to console her, "these things do happen."

"These things do happen? For the past three months, these things do happen! And did you stop them from happening? NO. And you two," she turned her gaze to Lestrade and Dimmock, "are as bad as him! 'These things do happen'. As long as these things do happen, this thing," she pointed at herself, "does not happen!" She turned on her heel and stormed off the stage.

Madame Hudson had approached Lestrade and Dimmock amongst the chaos holding a letter. She handed it to Dimmock. "A letter, Monsieurs, from the opera ghost. He welcomes you to his theatre and commands that box five must remain empty for his use. Also, he reminds you that his salary is due."

"Salary?" Lestrade frowned.

"Monsieur Lefebvre paid him 20 thousand francs a month. Perhaps you can afford more, with the countess as your patron."

"We had hoped to make that announcement public at the premiere tonight, but we have lost our star!" Dimmock raged. "We'll have to refund a full house. A full house, Lestrade!"

"There must be an understudy," Lestrade reasoned.

"Understudy? There is no understudy for Donovan!" The maestro spoke loudly.

"John Watson could sing it sir." Madame Hudson pulled the blonde forward.

"What, a chorus boy?" Lestrade scoffed.

"He has a wonderful teacher," Madame Hudson replied.

"Who?"

John Watson allowed his cheeks to color slightly. "I don't know his name."

"Let him sing for you," Madame Hudson's voice was commanding. "He has been well taught."

* * *

John Watson stood at centre stage in his costume. He was nervous, everyone in the audience was watching, even the Countess de Chagny. He closed his eyes and thought of his angel of music and began to sing.

_Think of me_

_Think of me fondly_

_When we've said goodbye_

_Remember me_

_Once in a while_

_Please promise me you'll try_

_When you find_

_That once again you long_

_To take your heart back and be free_

_If you ever find a moment_

_Spare all thought for me_

_We never said our love was ever green_

_Or as unchanging as the sea_

_But if you can still remember_

_Stop and think of me_

_Think of all the things we've shared and seen_

_Don't think about the way things might have been_

_Think of me_

_Think of me waking_

_Silent and resigned_

_Imagine me_

_Trying to hard _

_To put you from my mind_

_Recall those days_

_Look back on all those times_

_Think of the things we'll never do_

_There will never be a day_

_When I won't think of you_

* * *

The Countess de Chagny, or Mary as she preferred to be called, sat in her seat and stared down at the spectacle before her. Was that John Watson? The little boy she played with when she was only a little girl?

"Bravo!" She screamed loudly.

_Long ago_

_It seems so long ago_

_How young and innocent we were_

_He may not remember me _

_But I remember him._

* * *

John heard the applause from the crowd in the brief pause before the last verse. He took a deep breath and began.

_Flowers fade_

_The fruits of summer fade_

_They have their season_

_So do we_

_So please promise me that sometimes_

_You will think of me._

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Reviews are love :)


	2. Angel of Music

**Quick disclaimer: I haven't read the book, I'm basing this off of the movie version with Emmy Rossum and Gerard Butler. Also, the end will be drastically different, in that I am a massive Johnlock shipper. So keep that in mind. I know Mary is Raoul but John craves danger and the phantom might just be who he needs. Any** **who, please read and review :)**

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Molly Hooper frowned as she glanced among the sea of familiar faces in the back room of the opera house. Where was John? She questioned a few of the dancers and got pointed in the general direction. Of course, John would be in the chapel, lighting a candle for his late father.

Molly entered loudly so she wouldn't scare him and sang quietly.

_Where in the world have you been hiding?_

_Really you were perfect_

_I only wish I knew your secret_

_Who is your great tutor?_

John smiled and took Molly's hand.

_Father once spoke of an angel_

_I used to dream he'd appear_

_Now as I sing I can sense him_

_And I know he's here_

_Here in this room, he calls me softly_

_Somewhere inside, hiding_

_Somehow I know he's always with me_

_He, the unseen genius_

Molly frowned. John must have had a short nap while she was searching for him. He must have had a dream.

_John, dear, you must have been dreaming_

_Stories like this can't come true_

_John, dear, you're talking in riddles_

_And it's not like you_

John's smile didn't falter and he looked away from Molly towards the candle he'd lit in front of his father's picture.

_Angel of music_

_Guide and guardian_

_Grant to me your glory_

_Angel of music_

_Hide no longer_

_Secret and strange angel_

Molly took John's hands and led him away from the macabre chapel. He was looking pale and it seemed as though the depressed mood in the chapel was seeping into him.

"He's with me even now," John's eyes were glazed and Molly pulled harder on his hands.

"Your hands are cold." She told him.

"All around me," John spoke in a daze.

Molly turned back to him, "your face, John, dear, is white."

John seemed to snap out if his daze and looked at Molly with haunted eyes. "It frightens me."

Molly hugged him. "Don't be frightened."

* * *

John gasped as Madame Hudson ushered him into his dressing room. Bouquets of glorious flowers littered every available surface. He grinned widely as he stared at the flowers, but he allowed his smile to falter when he noticed the red rose on his dressing table, a black ribbon tied nearly around the stem.

Madame Hudson followed his gaze to the rose and picked it up. "He is pleased with you," she said gently before placing a kiss on his cheek and leaving him. John shivered and sat at his dressing table.

* * *

Mary rushed down the stairs towards John's dressing room, eager to speak to him once more. She was stopped, however, by Lestrade and Dimmock.

"Countess! We've found an excellent star in mister Watson, don't you think?" Dimmock exclaimed.

"Perhaps you'd like us to introduce him to you?" Lestrade offered. Mary shook her head.

"No Monsieurs, this is a visit is prefer to make unaccompanied." She curtsied lightly and continued in John's direction.

She opened the dressing room door and quickly closed it behind her. There John was, sitting at his dressing table. He looked the same as he did years ago when they were kids.

"Little Johnny let his mind wander," she spoke as he turned to smile at her. "Little Johnny thought 'am I fonder of dolls or of goblins or shoes?' "

John laughed, "Mary."

"Or of riddles or frocks," she continued.

"Those picnics in the attic," John closed his eyes and reminisced.

"Or of chocolates," Mary was lost at the look of sheer happiness on John's face.

"Father playing the violin," John's voice was dreamy.

"As we read to each other, dark stories of the north."

"No, what I love best, Johnny said, is when I'm asleep in my bed," John let out a deep sigh, "and the angel of music sings songs in my head, the angel of music sings songs in my head."

Mary rushed over to hug John. "You sang like an angel tonight."

John smiled. "Father said 'when I'm in heaven child, I shall send the angel of music to you'. Well father is dead, Mary, and I have been visited by the angel of music."

Mary laughed, "no doubt of it! But now we go to supper. Hurry and change, I'll gather my fine horses."

John's face became stoic, "no Mary, the angel of music is very strict."

Mary laughed again. "Then I shan't keep you up late. 2 minutes, little Johnny." She grinned as she swept out the door. She was so enthralled in her euphoria that she didn't notice someone lock john's door and take the key.

* * *

John glanced at himself in the mirror. As much as he'd like to go with Mary, the angel of music would want to speak to him, and he knew he mustn't disobey his angel.

He waited silently for his angel to sing to him, to teach him. It was only a few seconds to ten, and he was always on time. As the clock struck, John heard him sing.

_Insolent girl!_

_This slave of fashion_

_Basking in your glory!_

_Ignorant fool!_

_This brave young suitor_

_Sharing in my triumph!_

John stood abruptly and felt very ashamed. He'd disappointed his angel. The only way he knew of to placate the angel was to sing.

_Angel, I hear you_

_Speak, I listen_

_Stay by my side_

_Guide me_

_Angel, my soul was weak_

_Forgive me_

_Enter at last_

_Master_

When the angel replied he sounded less harsh, and his voice wrapped around John like a cocoon, and soothed him like it always did. That chocolatey deep voice that seemed to melt John's bones and take control of his senses.

_Flattering child_

_You shall know me_

_See why in shadow I hide_

_Look at your face in the mirror_

_I am there inside_

John had no control over his body as he walked towards the large mirror. He could see himself, but he could also see through the mirror and he saw only black curls adorning a milky white face, but the face was half covered by a stark white mask. His mouth seemed to open of his own accord as he reached out to touch the cold glass.

_Angel of music_

_Guide and guardian_

_Grant to me your glory_

_Angel of music_

_Hide no longer_

_Come to me, strange angel_

John pressed against the glass of the mirror, longing to see his angel, to touch, to feel. He'd dreamt of meeting his angel for so long. The angel extended his arm to John through the mirror and John took it.

_I am your angel of music_

_Come to me, angel of music_

John barely registered the thumping on the door, or Mary's hectic calling "whose voice is that? Who is that in there?" All John could focus on was his angel in front of him, his voice beckoning him to step through the mirror, so he did.

_I am your angel of music_

_Come to me, angel of music._

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**Reviews are greeeeaaaat!**


	3. The Phantom of the Opera

**Thanks for the great reviews! Sorry it's been a while since the last chapter, I've been working my butt off lately. Anyway, onward!**

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John followed the Angel in a daze, his eyes were hooded and the walls seemed to move and dance. There were real arms holding the sconces and they shifted around as the two passed. The hand John was gripping tightly squeezed his, and John finally got to look at his Angel's face. Then, his heart fell.

His Angel, his glorious tutor, was the one haunting the opera house. The Phantom of the Opera, they called him, or the Opera Ghost. John shivered, the idea of the Phantom being so near to him was terrifying, but it also thrilled him. He gazed into the clear pools that made up the Phantom's eyes and made a decision. He'd follow the phantom anywhere.

_In sleep he sang to me_

_In dreams he came_

_That voice which calls to me_

_And speaks my name_

_And do I dream again?_

_For now I find_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my mind_

John allowed the phantom to lift him onto a sleek black horse, and as they rode into darkness, John finally got to watch his Angel as he sang.

_Sing once again with me_

_Our strange duet_

_My power over you_

_Grows stronger yet_

_And though you turn from me_

_To glance behind_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside your mind_

John felt woozy as the Phantom lifted him off the horse and deposited him into a small boat. He heard the Phantom step in behind him, and John sang again, quietly, almost to himself.

_Those who have seen your face_

_Draw back in fear_

_I am the mask you wear_

He could almost hear the Phantom's grin as John began to understand. John was the mechanism the Phantom had used to broadcast his own talents to the world. John didn't mind, really, the Phantom was a genius. The Phantom joined the song.

_It's me they hear_

John ached to sing together with the Phantom, so he opened his mouth and just let the words flow, words from the Phantom flowing from his voice.

_Your spirit and my voice_

_In one combined_

_The Phantom of the Opera is there_

_Inside my mind_

John closed his eyes and let the music drown him. He soaked it up, like a sponge thrown deep into the ocean that was the Phantom.

_He's there, the Phantom of the Opera... _

John let his voice take on a mind of its own as he let himself sink deeper into the musical waters. He hit notes he'd never hit before, all while the phantom guided him.

_Sing, my angel! Sing for me!_

* * *

John opened his eyes and was greeted with a spectacular sight. All around him was a deep, black lake, the only thing breaking the perfect lines was a small beach of sorts, which was covered with dripping candles. The Phantom stepped out of the boat as they reached the shore, and he turned fully to John, showing him the beauty of the uncovered part of his face, his deep eyes, and his inky hair.

_I have brought you_

_To the seat of sweet music's throne_

_To this kingdom_

_Where all must pay homage to music_

_Music_

_You have come here_

_For one purpose and one alone_

_Since the moment I first heard you sing_

_I have needed you with me_

_To serve me, to sing for my music_

_My music_

The Phantom held his hand out to John, who took it without a second thought.

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**Please review! 3**


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